


Afterlife Bonding

by ghostbursoot (stargutzz)



Series: Tales of the DreamSMP [2]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DreamSMP - Freeform, Ghost!Wilbur, Ghostbur, Light Angst, Other, Spoilers, a bit of comfort, ghost!jschlatt, gschlatt, no romantic relationships just some good bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargutzz/pseuds/ghostbursoot
Summary: !! SPOILERS FOR THE MANBERG/POGTOPIA WAR STREAM AND THE STREAMS FOLLOWING IT !!Wilbur's dead. He doesn't quite mind it, but being the only ghost gets a bit lonely at times. When a new ghost shows up, he finally gets the chance to bond with shared experiences.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Series: Tales of the DreamSMP [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023966
Comments: 8
Kudos: 259





	Afterlife Bonding

Wilbur doesn't remember Schlatt, not in the slightest. He's heard the name in passing, and some things he may have done, but it never really stuck in the spirit's head. All he knows about Schlatt is that he's dead, and he has a book written by the man himself in his library. Wilbur didn't think much of it, he was more focused on building little things in L'Manburg. 

Then, one day, another ghost showed up. 

Wilbur didn't notice him at first. He was too busy in his library for the majority of the day, only coming out to ramble on to his corporeal friends about whatever the topic may be. Though as he heads back to his library late in the night, he sees a horned figure sitting on the presidential podium that Tubbo had built. The figure was sitting in Tubbo's seat, looking out to the rows of empty chairs. 

Wilbur didn't know what to do at first. For as long as he's been wandering this country, there's only been one ghost, one soul who truly knows how it felt to experience the afterlife. Maybe this was his chance to truly connect with someone.  
It takes Wilbur a bit to actually walk up to him. For a good couple of minutes, he sits from afar and just looks at the other ghost. He had huge ram horns, a yankee cap, mutton chops that could rival any lumberjack's, and a light blue sweater. Next to him was a bottle of some kind of alcohol. It seemed to be something tethered to him, like Wilbur with his guitar. 

Wilbur finally walked up to him, though. He didn't float over like he normally would, instead he went around Quackity's house and up the steps, ensuring that he didn't startle the other.  
"Um- hello?" Wilbur's voice cracked a bit as he greets the horned ghost. The ghost turns towards him, and his eyes widened a bit in surprise. 

"Ah, hi there," The ram says simply, his voice soft and cracking the same way Wilbur's does. Wilbur noticed that this wasn't the negative reaction that he was dreading, and walked over to the Vice President seat. 

"Is this seat taken, by any chance?" Wilbur asks, fiddling with his guitar strap as he waits for an answer. 

"Nah, go ahead," Wilbur senses an overall sadder tone in the ram's voice as he takes off his guitar, sitting it next to the the seat before sitting down himself. He takes a moment to sit in silence, looking out at the empty crowd himself. He remembers the election, when there was a crowd full of people. He remembers seeing Tommy being so happy after winning the election, but he can't quite recall being happy himself. Strange. 

"Um, my name is Wilbur! It's nice to see another ghost around here," Wilbur says politely, turning to the other ghost. 

"You're Wilbur..?" The ram looks very curious, and lost almost. 

"Yes, that's my name." Wilbur smiles a bit, but realizes something, "Do you remember me?" His voice raises to the capacity it can, which isn't very loud in reality, but he's happy. Someone who's also dead may remember him. That thought was exciting. 

"Not entirely, sorry..." Wilbur's face falls a bit, "The name sounds familiar, that's all," The New Yorker gives the other a sympathetic look. His voice, despite the accent being heavy, is still soft and sad. 

"My name's Schlatt," He thought that he could at least make Wilbur a little happier by introducing himself, hoping to lighten the situation a bit. Wilbur perks up at the name a bit. 

"Oh, I've heard of you! Tubbo's talked about you some," Wilbur leans back in his seat, dangling his ghostly limbs off the side, letting them pass in and out of the floor and chair. 

Schlatt sits for a minute. Tubbo... Tubbo.. the name, like Wilbur's, has that feeling of familiarity to it. A fuzzy image of a shorter, brown haired boy in uniform pops into his brain, but the face is unrecognizable, and no other memories appear with it. 

"Who's... Tubbo?" Schlatt asks, looking over to Wilbur. 

"Oh, he's the president of this country, I believe! Not the president of much, but he's still very kind!" Wilbur looks out to the humongous crater and the small land that surrounded it. They really are doing the best they can with it. 

Schlatt thinks for a while. The word president really resonates with him. He remembers standing on a podium, two people beside him as he gives some sort of speech. The words are so far off and unknown to him though. 

After a while of silence, Wilbur finally speaks up, "Schlatt... do you remember anything from when you were alive?" 

Schlatt sits for a moment. Nothing is clear in his memories. He has vague images and far off and unrecognizable words. 

"No, not really..." 

"Aw, I'm sorry," Wilbur's face kinda contorts to sympathy. "If it makes you feel any better, I only remember a couple of things. They're mostly happy! Other than getting stabbed, of course," He tugs a bit at the hole in his shirt, that seem to stay the same way no matter how much he tugs at it. 

"You got stabbed..? Is that how you died?" Schlatt questions, gripping at his chest a bit. 

"Yep, got stabbed in a room around here somewhere. Who it was is a little fuzzy to me, but it doesn't matter much, I guess," He fiddles with his sweater some more, "Do you know how you died?" 

Schlatt thinks for a while. 

"I remember... the smell of toast, and a bunch of people surrounding me. Then a sharp pain in my chest..." He lets go of his chest and looks at his hands as he finishes his thought. What has he done? What was he like when alive? 

"Ah, natural causes. That seems nice, at least. Better than bleeding to death, I assume," Wilbur chuckles a small bit. 

Schlatt looks around at L'Manburg, trying to remember something, anything clearly. Nothing seems to come to mind. 

Wilbur gets a theory for something. He gets up from his seat and floats in front of Schlatt. 

"You said you didn't remember anything, right?" Wilbur says as he hovers above the edge of the podium. 

"Yeah, there's nothing really clear," 

"Well, I don't know if my experience is just how all ghosts work, but..." He thinks about how he should word this, "... I only really remember happy things, so maybe, as sad as it is, you were just really unhappy for most of your life?" 

Confusion crosses Schlatt's face, but is quickly followed by a look of melancholy. 

"I... I think I was just really lonely..."


End file.
